


All That You Believe

by noveltea



Series: Stargate: Outpost [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-17
Updated: 2010-07-17
Packaged: 2017-10-10 15:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/101205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noveltea/pseuds/noveltea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Incomplete) Atlantis suffers its second biohazard lockdown.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

"Ouch."

The complaint echoed in the mostly empty infirmary.

"Well, if you'd sit still, it wouldn't hurt as much."

John Sheppard cast a glance over his shoulder at the young doctor currently cleaning out his latest battle wound – a nasty gash in the back of his shoulder thanks to a piece of shrapnel. "You're quoting a Disney film?" he asked her incredulously.

The doctor bit back a laugh. "Perhaps. But then again, you were the one who called the reference, Colonel," she told him, humour tinging her voice. "Regardless, it is a medical truth that if you let your doctor do their work without moving around too much it is a lot less painful. Not to mention quicker."

"Medical truth?" That prompted another raised eyebrow. "Or just something you tell all your patients?"

"Only the ones who can't sit still," she replied, not taking her eyes off what she was doing. Sheppard was perhaps one of the worst patients Addison Parker had had to deal with since arriving in Atlantis to join the current medical team, because unless he was bedridden, he did not seem to be able to sit still long enough to let anyone do their job. Parker did not think it was personal, she had heard comments about him from the nurses – who seemed to put up with him mostly because he was charming and good looking.

At least attempting to sit still for the time being, Sheppard gripped the edge of the examining table. To distract him, while she cleaning out the dirt that had managed to find it's way into his wound, she asked him, "There weren't too many wounded when you all came back through the Stargate. How did you end up the lucky one with the most severe injuries from the attack?"

"The perks of being the team leader – _Ow_!"

Parker winced. "Sorry, Colonel. I'm almost done."

"Oh, good," he replied. His voice was thinly laced with veiled sarcasm, but she took it in stride. Most people got along with doctors – unless they were the. Regardless, Sheppard seemed eager to keep his mind off what was being done to his shoulder, and asked, "How are you finding Atlantis?"

Behind him, Parker smiled. "Better than anything I could have imagined," she admitted. And it was true. Atlantis was beyond her wildest dreams, and she was determined to take advantage of every minute she had. She had arrived aboard the _Daedalus_ with the rest of the new personnel after Atlantis had been able to establish a wormhole back to Earth.

Back when the Atlantis mission had still been in its planning stages, Parker had been short listed on the medical roster, thanks to possessing the Ancient Technology Activation gene, and a connection to the chief medical advisor. However, when the mission itself became feasible, and the medical team selected, Parker's name had not been on the final list. The reasons she had been given were that there were too many medical personnel, and that her relative experience in her profession was less than that of some of the others. Even now, on Atlantis, she was one of the youngest medical team members. Instead of the Atlantis mission, the Air Force had offered her a placement at Stargate Command, which she had eagerly accepted. It was not what she had hoped for, but it was a good second-best.

Privately she wondered if there had been other reasons for her being excluded from the original mission list. Granted, the reasons she had been given were valid, and she had no reason to doubt that there were any other hidden meanings, but Parker's status as a _mutant_ gave her pause for thought.

However, her mutation had played an integral part in her role at the SGC. Considered a low-level healer, Parker had been able to use her powers to help aid in faster recovery rates of the base personnel. In her personnel file, it had been listed an as indispensable talent. While she might not have the capabilities to fully heal severe injuries – in fact the only injuries she had ever been able to heal completely, on the spot, were relatively minor cuts and bruises. For everything else, she was able to advance the rate of healing, but not complete it. Some things the body needed to heal itself.

Still, when the opportunity came up for extra personnel to travel to Atlantis, Parker had jumped at the chance, signing the one-year commitment papers without even hesitating. This time, a place had been offered to her.

Finishing up the cleaning, Parker covered the wound in Sheppard's shoulder with her gloved hand. "This might feel a little strange, Colonel," she warned him. Drawing in a deep breath, she focused on his wound. In her mind she could see the damage and began repairing it. Beneath her hand, the cut skin re-grew, slowly, but steadily. She could not see the expression on Sheppard's face, but she hoped it was not too uncomfortable for him.

When she finished, she removed her hand, and checked the skin on the back of his shoulder. "Okay," she told him. "We're nearly done here. You can put your shirt back on." Grabbing his chart off the examining table where she had left it, she turned around to lean on the counter behind herself while she wrote a new entry to add to his file.

"You know, Doc," Sheppard spoke up, slipping his shirt back on over his head. "That's just plain weird."

Turning slightly to look at him, she grinned, amused. "Thank you." Finishing up with the chart, she shut it, and left it sitting on the bench. "Okay, so no heavy lifting for the next day or so. The worst of the damage is healed, but if you do anything too strenuous too quickly, you risk tearing it again."

The colonel's eyes glittered with mischief. "And here I thought you'd healed me, Dr. Parker."

"Yeah, well, unfortunately it doesn't always work like that," she told him, grin still firmly in place. "If you want me to perform a miraculous healing, come to me with paper-cuts next time, Colonel."

"I'll keep that in mind," he told her. His face bore the irresistibly charming grin that had wooed the female nursing staff.

Giving him a bemused smile, she shook her head. Then she remembered something. "Actually. Do you mind waiting for a minute? I think Dr. Beckett wanted a word with you."

Carson Beckett was the Chief Medical officer on Atlantis, and a good friend to Parker.

Sheppard nodded, and hopped back into a sitting position on examining table. "Where is the good doctor? I haven't seen him since we came back through the 'gate."

"He's with the two patients that you brought back with the survivors," she told him. "Dr. Beckett wanted to run an MRI, see if there's a reason why they've been unconscious for so long, and to find out if there's any damage. It's a bit of a mystery." She smiled. "Don't worry, he should be back any minute now."

Sheppard's latest off-world mission had been to a planet with a small population; most of the small communities lived a great distance away from the planet's Stargate. Originally Sheppard's team had been there to negotiate trade with the closest settlement, but a Wraith attack forced an immediate evacuation through the 'gate, and Sheppard brought as many of the survivors from the small settlement inhabitants back to Atlantis. While Elizabeth Weir had not been expecting such an event, she offered the services of the Atlantis expedition team to help the survivors return to their home, or to find another planet that would be suitable for them to start over.

Upon their unexpected arrival, Beckett had taken the two unconscious men directly to the infirmary room where they had set up the MRI, leaving Parker and a handful of medical technicians to check the rest of the off-world visitors. Most of them were suffering shock, and they had all been gathered in one of Atlantis' many conference rooms, and hot drinks distributed, while the medics did their work. Parker had seen to the post-mission medical check of Sheppard's team; Sheppard insisted on being treated last.

Parker was startled out of her reverie when Beckett and two of his assistants returned to the infirmary, wheeling their two patients on gurneys. She offered him a slight wave, and pointed in the direction of Sheppard.

Nodding ever so slightly, Beckett offered her a brief, but troubled grin. She recognised the look. It meant he was puzzled by something. "Thank you, Addison," he told her as he passed by, towards Sheppard.

Parker watched as he met up with Sheppard, before she turned away towards the infirmary's primary computer – a laptop set up to interface with the Ancient system. They used this primary for their main research, and for patient files. She was still coming to grips with the system they had on Atlantis – they did not have all the luxuries of a modern, up-to-date hospital. Then again, some of those hospitals did not have what they did. It all took some getting used to. Not to mention she was still learning the intricacies of the Ancient language. Whenever she accessed the Atlantis mainframe directly without interfacing it with on of their computers, she ran the risk of not being able to translate the text correctly.

It took her less than ten minutes to update the Sheppard's file. When she finished, she closed the program and glanced back in Beckett's direction. He was still engrossed in conversation with Sheppard. Sighing, she headed towards the infirmary entrance. A good cup of tea sounded good right about now. Then she would check on Atlantis' latest guests. Perhaps they could shed some light on the condition of the two men still lying unconscious on gurneys being attended to by the nursing staff. So far all they had been able to ascertain was that the two men had fallen ill, then unconscious nearly a week earlier.

As she passed the medics – Cally Anderson and Rebecca Childes – she asked if she could get anything for them while she was in the commissary. Two coffee requests later, she called out to Dr. Beckett, "Can I get you anything?" She hated to so rudely interrupt his conversation, but she felt it ruder not to at least offer to get him something while she was out.

The delay to her departure proved to be nothing short of disaster.

Turned away from the door, Parker watched as one of their off-world patients began to convulse violently. Both medics reacted immediately, and Parker found herself automatically moving towards their direction to help them strap the man down for his own safety. It was not a quiet event, and the extra ruckus drew Beckett's gaze away from Sheppard. She heard herself automatically start giving orders, then heard Beckett's unmistakable Scottish accent join her own Australian one.

Under a minute later, the second patient also began to convulse, and Parker left the first patient in the hands of Beckett and Anderson, while moving over to strap down the second man. "Page the emergency staff," she told Childes, who gave a brisk nod and immediately moved off to do exactly that. On her own, Parker struggled to get the man sedated and secured. When Sheppard stepped in to hold the man down, it caught her by surprise.

Pulling the cap off the needle with her teeth, Parker administered the sedative through the intravenous drip, and adjusted its release setting, allowing more into the bloodstream of the patient for the time being. With Sheppard strapping the man down, Parker glanced at the bedside monitor; the readings definitely were not like anything she had seen before. Behind her, she could still hear Beckett calling out orders, and absently she acknowledged that Childes joined herself and Sheppard over the second patient. Despite the sedatives, the convulsions were not stopping for either patient.

Parker's patient opened his eyes, and for a minute she recoiled in horror. They were pitch black, like oil, with no iris or pupil. She heard similar gasps from behind her, but didn't turn around. It did not take her long to realise that his eyes were, in fact, not black, but a red so dark they did indeed appear to be black. Blood.

The convulsions started with a new intensity, and before she knew what was happening, one of the straps restraining the patient's arms snapped, and she felt the arm connect with her stomach, as it lashed outwards with astonishing force. It knocked her backwards and down, and she felt her head connect with the steel frame of the other gurney. The sharp pain sustained from the blow subsided almost instantly, but she was unable think straight.

On the floor, she missed what happened next.

Sheppard moved to try and contain the man's flailing arm, while Childes hastened to administer a stronger sedative. For both patients, the convulsions reached critical, and strained against all remaining bonds. And then, just as suddenly as the convulsions had started, the bodies themselves dissolved. Not into water; into ash. As if their bodies were incinerated in a split-second, leaving a cloud of thick ash in the air.

All around her, Parker could hear people coughing as they inhaled the ash. Eventually she started coughing herself, when the ash started to settle. It felt like an eternity, but everything happened so quickly, she barely took it all in.

Until the dull sound of Atlantis' sirens kicked in, and the doors to the infirmary slammed shut, sealed.

Ignoring the sound for the moment, Beckett crouched down next to her, and Parker smiled weakly as he examined her head. "You've a nasty gash there, Addison," he told her, and she nodded. "Can you heal it?"

She shook her head, no. It was not the first time that she wished her powers did not have so many rules.

He fetched a medical kit, and began cleaning her wound. She was surprised that he was not more concerned about the fact that he had just witnessed two bodies dissolve into ash, or that they were apparently sealed into the infirmary.

Sheppard crouched down on the ground beside Beckett. "Any idea on what the hell just happened, Doc?"

"Unfortunately, no," Beckett told him. "I've never seen anything like it." He had Parker hold dry gauze over the cut on her forehead while he fished the adhesive tape out from the medical kit.

Sheppard stood, looking around the infirmary. Unsure of what he was doing, Parker was about to ask him what he was looking for. But before she could say anything, he got up and headed towards the door.

While Beckett finished up, she asked, "What's that sound?"

"I'm not entirely sure, my dear," he told her. "But I suspect it might be Atlantis' quarantine procedures."

Parker blinked, her eyes narrowing. "Suspect?"

"Aye." Finished, Beckett packed up the kit. "When the presence of a threat is sense, Atlantis has the capacity to lockdown itself to contain the threat. We found that out once before."

Threat? Her face scrunched up in puzzlement, trying to coax her mind to work through the fog that had descended.

Then it dawned on her. _Threat._

"Oh god," she whispered.

In the background, Parker could still hear the alarms sounding.


	2. Part 2

The alarms of Atlantis echoed through the Gate room, and the Operations center above it. Most of the personnel looked around, confused. Elizabeth Weir, head of the Atlantis expedition wore an expression of concern. The last time she'd heard these alarms, it had been when a nanovirus had infected members of the scientific team exploring the lower levels of the city.

It was certainly a sound she had not wanted to hear a second time.

She also shared the confusion of her personnel, but hid it better. There had been no experiments or exploration scheduled today. Col. Sheppard's team had returned from a mission, but from Dr. Beckett's last report the medical team sent to assess the displaced off-worlders had cleared all of them.

All she could do was watch while Atlantis locked down the city for the second time since their settlement.

"Dr. Weir, we've been locked out of the Atlantis computers."

Already she was beginning to sense fear in the air. No one had any idea of what was going on.

"Alright," she said. "Is there any way we can find out what caused this without using the Atlantis mainframe?" she asked Dr. Mia Keller, one of the computer analysis officers.

Keller shook her head. "No. We can't even bring up the last few minutes worth of data that wasn't already stored on our computers."

"What about the internal sensors? Can we find out where everyone is?" If someone was somewhere they should not be, that might give them some indication of what they were dealing with.

Lieutenant Carl Black, another recent arrival to Atlantis also shook his head. "No. The current sensors are offline along with everything else."

Weir let out a sigh of frustration. They were locked in the Operations center, and everyone else locked into the rooms or corridors that they had been in when the lockdown initiated.

"Dr. Weir?"

Weir turned to look at Keller, who'd spoken up. "Yes?"

"We've been regularly trying to update our own computers with data from the Atlantis database, _including_ the internal sensors," she said, turning around her laptop around to face Weir. "The last update of information was ten minutes ago. It leaves a big window for people to move around in, but –" Keller's voice trailed off.

Weir stepped closer to her workstation to view the map of the city pictured on the screen. "Good work. See if you can find out if anyone was somewhere they shouldn't have been." It was a long shot, but it was all they had to go on. So far they had managed to designate the areas where personnel could and could not go for safety, and if anyone strayed out of those areas their safety could not be ensured. Granted, all the time they had spent in the city, they had explored a large portion of it, mostly in a radius from the control tower, but there was so much they had yet to uncover, and who knew what secrets the city still held.

"Dr. Weir?"

This time Weir turned to James Austin, one of their communications experts. "Yes, Lieutenant."

"I have a comm. from Colonel Sheppard for you, ma'am."

"Patch it, through," she told him, before heading off toward the viewing balcony for a limited amount of privacy. She heard the familiar hiss of comm. connection through her earpiece. "Colonel."

"_Elizabeth, we might have something of a situation here._" Short, to the point, and likely underplaying the seriousness of what was happening. But at least he seemed to know something about what was going on.

"John, where are you?" She was eager to establish the point of origin of this mess. The sooner they knew where it was happening, and what it was, the sooner they could clean it up. She hoped.

There was a pause, before, "_I'm in the infirmary with Drs. Beckett and Parker, and two of their staff._"

"Tell me what's happened," she told him, moving back into the Operations center. While they might have been locked out of the city's computers, they still had access to their own. Now they knew where the problem started.

"_The two unconscious Raden's that we brought back through the 'gate with us are dead. They just… exploded._"

"Exploded?" She was tempted to ask Sheppard to put Beckett on so she could find out exactly what had happened. She was saved the trouble of asking when the next voice she heard was that of Dr. Beckett.

"_Dr. Weir,_" he greeted somewhat curtly, but given the situation he could hardly be blamed. "_Colonel Sheppard's description, while simplistic, is correct. The two men went into cardiac arrest shortly after their MRIs, and at the peak of their condition they dissolved into an ash-like powder. We suspect that's what may have triggered the lockdown._"

Fresh concern washed over her features. "Is there a chance it is dangerous?"

"_Dangerous enough that the city felt the need to go into lockdown,_" Sheppard spoke again.

Her eyes caught sight of the locked doors and again she sighed. "What else can you tell me?"

"_Not much,_" Sheppard told her. He sounded as frustrated as she felt.

Beckett spoke up again. "_We won't know more until we study what remains of the bodies._"

"_What's left of them, anyway,_" Sheppard could be heard muttering, even over the communications channel.

In the background Weir could hear a female voice say, "_Well, at least we're in the perfect place to study a prospective biological contagion_." She recognised it as their newest surgeon to arrive in Atlantis, Addison Parker.

Her words sent a chill through Weir's bones. "Is it likely to be another biological virus?" The last one had not had an easy solution, and had claimed the lives of a number of scientists before they had come up with a way to neutralise it safely.

"_We won't know until we run the tests,_" Beckett repeated.

"_How much of the city is in lockdown?_" Sheppard inquired suddenly, his voice startling Weir.

Turning to Keller, she repeated the question, double-checking. "All of the areas where we have personnel," she told the major. Weir hesitated. "Is it possible that the Raden's planned this?" They still had a roomful of them contained in a conference room, and the thought that this might have been a planned attack sent a chill down her spine.

"_It's possible,_" Sheppard conceded. "_But unlikely. They're a simple people who had no knowledge of us until we arrived. Those men were sick before we arrived._"

Weir could not fault Sheppard's assessment, but she was still concerned about the rest of the people his team had brought back,

"_We're going to need extra medical personnel down here, in Hazmat suits as soon as possible,_" Parker spoke up. "_And we're going to need to get back access into the Atlantis mainframe as well._"

"We'll see what we can do," Weir told them. "Keep me posted."

"_Will do. Sheppard out._"

Turning back to the personnel in the Operation center, she handed out instructions, before joining Keller to look over what the younger woman had found out from the sensors while she had been connected to the infirmary. She made a note to have someone check on their guests at the soonest available opportunity.

  



	3. Part 3

It was over four hours before anyone managed to reach the infirmary, by which time, Drs. Beckett and Parker had already begun their own analysis of the situation. While Beckett gathered samples of what remained of the two Radan men who had dissolved, Parker took blood samples from everyone, including Beckett and herself. Medics Anderson and Childes prepared the infirmary the best they could for a worst-case scenario, and Col. Sheppard kept in contact with Weir and the Operations center.

For a group of people thrown together under the circumstances, they functioned well enough, and so no one was panicking.

"You know," Sheppard started, as Parker had him sit back on the same examination table he had been sitting on when she had healed his shoulder wound earlier, "I thought you said you were all done." It was accompanied by a rueful smile.

"My apologies, Colonel," she told him, flashing him a quick smile. "But this one won't take quite as long as before." As she spoke, she prepared his arm, finding a viable vein, and pricking his skin with the needle.

"That's what they all say," he murmured. Parker noticed that he avoided looking at the needle. Amused, she smiled to herself. Apparently even tough guys did not like to watch their own blood being drawn. Some things never failed to surprise her.

Still, when she finished, she pressed a dry cotton ball to the spot where the needle had pricked the skin, moving his free hand over it to hold it in place while she sealed the sample. "See, didn't take long at all," she told him, placing some tape over the cotton ball.

"You hands are cold," he commented, while she finished.

She looked up at him, smiling apologetically. "Sorry." Then, "Unfortunately, Major, we don't have any lollypops in here, otherwise I'd give you one for being such a good patient." With a final amused grin in his direction, she gathered up all the samples and left him sitting there with his own bemused smile on his face.

The section of the infirmary they currently occupied did not have all the analysis equipment – most of that was contained in the smaller labs that were adjacent to the infirmary proper – but it still had a few bits and pieces, which Beckett had gathered up in to one section of the room. They had enough equipment to run preliminary tests, but further analysis would have to wait until they either had more equipment brought to them, or until the rest of the medical staff could reach them.

"Anything interesting?" Parker asked as she joined Beckett.

He looked up from the microscope, sighing. "Nothing so far. What remains are left are mostly unusable." He stepped aside, and let her look through the scope. He was right – there was nothing remarkable about the ash beneath the scope. It merely looked like the body had been cremated. They wouldn't even get a viable genetic sample out of this mess.

Stepping back out his way, she began prepping slide samples of each person's blood. "We have blood samples of all personnel in Atlantis on file, right?" she double-checked. She knew that she certainly did.

"Yes," he told her. His voice was absent, as he looked through the 'scope.

"I'll do a straight comparison for now," she murmured aloud to herself. More complicated tests could not be run with this equipment, but a comparison would at least show if they had anything in their blood now that wasn't normally there.

Realising she had left her chart back in the exam room, she headed back to get it. Childes stopped her on her way back, and Anderson joined them.

"Dr. Parker, is there anything we can do to help you and Dr. Beckett?" Childes enquired. Rebecca Childes was a few years younger than Parker, but a competent medic.

She shook her head. "Not really. We're doing everything we can," she told them. Then, "I think the best thing to do would to be to just sit down and relax. We might be here a while."

Anderson seemed to hesitate before she spoke up, as though she was not sure how her words would be received. "I think we'd both prefer to keep busy," she said slowly.

It dawned on Parker that Anderson was right. The best way to keep from thinking about something you didn't want to think about was to keep busy. Preferably with something not related to what was happening. A quick glance of the room didn't reveal anything that would take too much time, which was unfortunate, but would have to do.

Nodding, she told them, "Well, if you like, we could use an inventory of what we have in this room, just in case. Oh, and we also moved some of the supplies from the storeroom this morning. They haven't been packed away yet."

They both nodded, and Parker smiled warmly as they went to do as she suggested. She knew she was lucky to have something to keep her occupied for the time being.

Returning to her slides, and the microscope, she did not move from that spot for over an hour. During that time she asked Beckett about the lockdown. He had replied that he had not been in the city proper during the last lockdown.

"Rodney and his team were exploring other parts of the city as part of the post-storm damage survey, to check structural integrity," he explained. "Two of the scientists accidentally released a nanovirus, infecting themselves and a number of other people along the way. Five people died that day. One of the scientists was shot by Colonel Sheppard after he broke quarantine and tried to return to the city, endangering the people in the mess hall."

"I think I read something about that," Parked admitted. She had started reading up on all the files involving medical situations, research and breakthroughs, but it would take a while. "Something about using an EM field to disable the virus, right?"

Beckett nodded. "Rodney had the colonel set off the EMP generator in his lab, and when that didn't work, he took a naquadah generator and detonated it twenty miles above the city."

Parker blew out a whistle. "Well, this isn't a nanovirus. Or any form of nanotechnology, for that matter. It looks organic, and resembles a virus. According to all the samples, we're all infected." She sat back in her seat. "Whether it does anything, though, is another story."

Sheppard joined them, with news from Weir. "There's no one close enough to the Hazmat's to get through the doors, so it looks like we're stuck here for a while. Unless they figure out a way to re-open some of the doors." The tone in his voice suggested that he didn't think it was going to happen. "Anything on your end?"

"Not really," Parker admitted, and Beckett agreed. "It's unlikely we'll know what we're dealing with until we start showing symptoms."

That got a raised eyebrow from the major. Then to Parker, he asked, "What's the chance of you getting it?"

She seemed moderately surprised by the question, though she had thought about it a fair bit in the last hour. "Slim," she admitted. For all the limitations of her mutation, the one thing that had been reliable most of her life was immunity to common colds or virus'. While she had inhaled enough of whatever it was that had been thrown into the air, the possibility that her body would just fight it off before she started showing signs of infection was high.

He nodded, and then wryly replied to Beckett, "Some people get all the luck." With a wink in Parker's direction, he returned to the comm. in the infirmary to update Weir. His level-headedness in this situation both surprised and fascinated her. It should not have – he was military, after all – but it did.

Time passed fairly slowly after that. Parker finished her analysis, and joined Rebecca and Cally in their inventory for a period of time, just to clear her head. It was good, mind-numbing work, and when she returned to their makeshift lab, she felt clear-headed, and hoped this time around she'd be able to spot any serious anomalies.

Beckett was still running every test he could on the remains.

"You should take a break," she told him.

He sighed. "I feel like I'm missing something," he confided.

Parker nodded. "Okay, let's go over everything from the top, then. Maybe we did miss something." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "Okay, so Colonel Sheppard and his team arrive back from the planet, under fire from the Wraith, with less than fifty survivors from the village they'd been visiting. Two of those refugees were unconscious before arriving in Atlantis."

"I scheduled them for MRIs after running preliminary checks on both patients," Beckett continued. "Then Cally and I took them down to the lab, where Rebecca met us and started the scans."

"During that time, I checked in with the emergency medical crew who were examining the refugees in the conference room," Parker added. "I brought Colonel Sheppard back here, since he had the only extensive wound." She paused again, remembering something. "When you came back from the lab, you seemed … puzzled."

He nodded again, and sighed. "I ran the scans a number of times, because nothing showed up the first time. The second scan was interrupted by interference, on both patients. When I ran it a third time, the scan still did not show anything of interest."

Parker's head snapped up sharply. "What kind of interference?"

Beckett shook his head. "I don't know. You think it might have something to do with what happened?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "I just think it's strange that the interference pattern in the scans is strange. Has the MRI ever malfunctioned while you've been here?"

"No."

"Hm." She leaned forward, her elbows in the table, and her head in her hands. "Okay. So you bring them back. You go to talk with Colonel Sheppard. I start to head out for a break. I turn around to ask you a question, and everything goes to hell."

"Patients convulse violently, appear to awaken, then suddenly disintegrate." Beckett let out a frustrated sigh. "Nothing about this is normal, Addison."

"No kidding." Restless, she stood and looked around the infirmary, particularly in the direction of where their patients had died. She didn't know why she felt compelled to look there, but something struck her as wrong. Turning back to Beckett, she asked, "Did you clean up after you took samples of the remains?"

Beckett frowned. "No. Why?"

Parker did not reply, instead moving over to the gurneys. Most of the ash was gone. She knew that neither of the nurses had cleaned it; in fact, earlier she'd specifically told them not to. Sheppard would not have cleaned it up, and Beckett replied that he had not.

"That's odd," she murmured to herself.

When Beckett joined her, he seemed equally perplexed.

Without saying anything, Parker started collecting fresh samples from what was left from both gurneys and returned to view them under her scope. What she saw didn't lessen her confusion. Beckett still had samples sitting in airtight sample jars, and she had him put them back under his own scope.

"There's something wrong here," she told him, after looking between his samples, and hers. "It's _decaying_. At an impossibly fast rate."

Beckett checked her results. "I think you might be on to something, Addison." He looked up at her, a wry smile on his face. "Of course, I don't know what, but you're definitely on to something."

Again Sheppard joined them, having heard Beckett's words.

"Whatever's left of the two men is degrading due to exposure to the air," Parker told him. "If that's what it was designed to do, it's an ingenious way to hide a biological contagion."

"There's also a chance the lockdown will end once all the material has completely broken down," Beckett added. "We may even be able to speed up the process."

Sheppard eyed them curiously. "How?"

"Gather it all up, seal it into a container and expose it to pure oxygen," Parker replied.

Beckett nodded. "We keep supplies of it in the infirmary."

"What are you waiting for?" Sheppard asked. It was the question of an impatient man, although they all wanted this to be over as soon as possible.

Parker shook her head. "Not so fast. Even if Atlantis ends its lockdown in other parts of the city, we'll still be infected. The infirmary will still either remain in automatic lockdown, or have to be put into a self-regulated quarantine until we know what we're dealing with. I can tell you that everyone in the room has got this virus, but I can't tell you what it does, if anything. Until then, we're not going anywhere."

Frustration broke out across Sheppard's face, and Parker knew how he felt. "Weir has the medical staff who were treating the Raden survivors questioning them, but so far they haven't turned up anything useful beyond the information that the two men fell unconscious over a week ago."

"Which is entirely unhelpful right now," Parker concluded.

Sheppard shrugged. "Don't shoot the messenger."

From behind them, they heard the sound of things crashing into the floor, and then Anderson's call for help. "Dr. Beckett! Dr. Parker!"

Both of them were on their feet and running the short distance towards where Anderson was crouched on the floor next to Childes. The look on Childes' face was one of pure fear.

"What happened?" Beckett asked.

"She just collapsed!" Anderson said, her voice high-pitched, and panic evident.

On the floor, between shaky breathes, Rebecca whispered, "I can't feel anything below my neck."

Parker shared a glance with Beckett. "Okay, we need to get her on one of the beds," she said, motioning for Sheppard to come closer and help.

Between Beckett and Sheppard, they managed to carry Childes to the nearest bed, laying her down gently, while Parker checked her vitals, and hooked her up to a monitor.

"Dr. Beckett!" Anderson hadn't moved from the floor.

"Get her on another bed," Parker told Sheppard. Turning back to Childes, she brushed hair off the younger woman's face. "It'll be okay," she told her.

They had their symptoms now, and she did not like the way it was headed, or the speed of its appearance.

With Anderson now on the bed next to Childes, Beckett repeated the process Parker had just done for their other patient. He was about halfway through before his legs gave way beneath him; this time Sheppard was able to catch him before he hit the ground.

"Carson!"

This time Parker didn't need to repeat what to do to Sheppard, but she helped him move Carson to a bed. He was a little more composed than their nurses, but Parker could see the fear in his eyes. Turning to Sheppard, she told him, "Tell Weir we're going to need people here, and soon. Then sit down on one of the spare beds." If he collapsed, she wouldn't be able to lift him by herself.

Sheppard nodded, and did as he was bid, while Parker finished hooking Anderson, and then Beckett up to a monitor.

"Addison," Carson said, "Get rid of the samples." They were not going to learn anything else from them, and now there was no point waiting. They were going to need more help.

She nodded, and after checking on all three once more, she moved to gather up all the remains of their original patients, scooping them into a container. Sealing the container, she punctured the lid and slid in plastic tube, sealing the remaining space around the whole with tape. Then, connecting the end of the plastic tubing to a canister of oxygen, she turned the valve on and let it go.

Leaving it, and praying that Carson's idea worked, she returned to her patients and Sheppard.

"Anything?" she asked him, checking his vitals just in case.

"I feel fine," he told her. "And I thought you said you were really done?"

His brief attempt at humour helped, even if it wasn't entirely appropriate in such a disaster. "Okay," she told him. "Sit here for a while." They all inhaled the virus at the same time, and Childes, Anderson and Beckett had collapsed in succession. The longer Sheppard was fine, the more likely it looked he would stay that way.

She was going to need more samples.

"_Major Sheppard?_"

Parker heard Weir's voice over the intercom. Sheppard started to get off the bed, but she shook her head. "Stay," she told him, and headed over herself, tone brooking no arguments. When she reached the comm. device, she pressed the button to speak. "Dr. Weir, this is Dr. Parker."

"_Where's Major Sheppard?_" The concern in Weir's voice was evident even through the comm. distortion.

"Resting, on my orders," she told Weir. "He's fine for the minute. It's just a precaution." Then, "Is there something I can do for your Dr. Weir?" It was abrupt, but she had bigger things to worry about right now, and unless she was calling to say that a medical team was on their way…

"_Atlantis ended its lockdown, and we've managed to get back control of most systems,_" Weir told her. Parker glanced at the entrance to the infirmary, but it was still shut. "_We'll have additional support there for you as soon as we can._"


	4. Part 4

Being cleared of contamination sounded easier than it actually was, Sheppard decided once he was finally clear of all infirmary rooms. Once access to the primary infirmary had been granted to the emergency team, both he and Dr. Parker had been poked and prodded with needles and other medical equipment, which he began to lose track of. Parker had pointed out that at least it was not her doing the poking this time, and although he did not say it aloud, Sheppard would have preferred it to be Parker. For a doctor, she had a sense of humour.

From the tests, they had waited in a separate room just off the infirmary. The room itself had been separated into two compartments, separated by thick plastic walls. Sheppard had spent the hour or so in quarantine pacing the small piece of room that was his, while Parker had simply watched him pace. She seemed particularly unperturbed by the chain of events, although Sheppard had caught her staring back in to the infirmary where Beckett and the nursing staff were being examined by the emergency team. Though it was not evident from her expression, Sheppard knew that she wished she were in there, doing her job.

It was a feeling he had felt himself a number of times.

When their time was up, and both had been cleared of having any of the contagion markers in their bloodstream, they had been escorted into separate decontamination chambers. When Stargate Command and Elizabeth Weir had put together the Atlantis team, they had not forgotten anything – using the Stargate program run in Cheyenne Mountain as a guide, the first thing on their list was a fully regimented quarantine procedure, complete with personnel. This was the first time they had been forced to use the full procedure, however, and even Sheppard felt a small amount of apprehension about it, which he simply put down to having no idea why he was not lying paralysed on a bed in the infirmary.

Parker had a convenient reason for coming through the ordeal with nothing more than the bump on the head she had sustained before the incident. Sheppard could not think of any reason why he had not ended up like the others. And apparently, neither could the emergency medical team.

Before entering the decontamination 'tent' that had been set up in the next room over, Parker had offered him a reassuring smile. "See you on the other side, Major," she told him, before disappearing inside the tent.

What followed was an arduous procedure of removal of clothing, in case it was contaminated, scrubbing down, and re-clothing. The clothes he ended up wearing were not his own, but at least they were a good fit, he thought as he finally exited, and was allowed to step out into the halls outside the infirmary rooms.

Parker was already waiting outside, leaning against the wall with her arms folded. A marine was standing slightly to her left, waiting.

"And they say women take a long time in the shower," Parker remarked. Her expression was serious, but her tone was not.

Sheppard shrugged. "Well, you had a head start, Doctor," he pointed out, before turning to the marine. "Corporal?"

The marine came to attention. "Dr. Weir has requested you join her in the Operations Centre, sir."

"We're done with quarantine," Parker informed him. None of the emergency medical team were out in the hallway with them, indicating as such. Though, seeming to sense his unasked question, she added, "Really. We're both in the green for test results, and our clothes will be destroyed. We're washed and we have new clothes. We're not a threat to anyone in Atlantis."

Nodding, Sheppard turned back to the marine corporal and told him, "You heard the lady."

Their escort led them from the infirmary back to the Operations Center without so much as a detour. Parker and Sheppard spoke occasionally to break the silence, usually with a comment regarding the city itself, and nothing about what was happening in the infirmary.

Their destination was, specifically, Dr. Elizabeth Weir's office, located to off one of the walkways that joined the Operations Centre. Weir was already inside when they arrived, and waved them both in. Seated across from her was Dr. Rodney McKay.

"John," Weir greeted Sheppard, before turning to Parker. "Addison. How are you both feeling?"

"A bit like a pin-cushion, but otherwise fine," Sheppard replied glibly, taking a seat in front of Weir's desk.

Parker, still standing, shrugged her shoulders in reply. Right now she had plenty of words to reply to Weir's question, although none of them were appropriate in this context. "I've had better days," she finally said.

Weir offered her a tired, but reassuring smile. "I think I know how you feel." She took a seat behind her desk, and motioned for Parker to take a seat. It was with some reluctance Weir noted that the surgeon did so. "What can you tell me?"

"Not much," Sheppard replied, leaning forward, his arms now resting on the desk. "Pretty much what we were able to tell you before. Those guys exploded—"

"Disintegrated is properly a more appropriate word," Parker cut in quietly. It earned her a look from Sheppard, which she shrugged off.

"They _disintegrated_ and the alarms went off," he finished.

Parker picked up the story. "When Carson and I were able to examine the remains left, which wasn't a lot, we couldn't find anything inorganic in the material. If it had been a virus in the bloodstream of the patients, which I think is safe to assume it is, then none of it survived the disintegration," she told Weir. Then, "I've already had an earful from the medical team now set up in the infirmary over it was 'wrong' to destroy the remains, but there was nothing helpful in the material, as Carson will attest to, since destroying them was his idea."

Weir held up her hand for Parker to pause. "How is Carson?"

Parker paused, brow furrowing. "Paralysed. From the neck down. The same goes for Cally Anderson and Rebecca Childes."

"I've been meaning to ask you," Sheppard said suddenly, turning to Parker. "How come they can still speak?"

"I have no idea, Colonel. This is an alien virus we're talking about, so we have no idea how it was designed to work," she replied. "Nor do we have any idea how to reverse the effects. It's strange. These symptoms won't kill them, which begs the question why design such a virus?"

Sheppard sat back in his chair. "Because whoever designed it are a sadistic bunch?"

"Right now, I don't think we need to be focusing on that just yet," Weir interjected. "We need to get our people better. Addison, you're Carson's second, which means I'm going to need to rely on you to walk me through all of this."

Sitting up a little straighter, Parker felt something akin to dread settle in the bottom of her stomach. When she first arrived onboard the Daedalus no the way to Atlantis, Beckett had informed her of his decision to have her assume the position that was equivalent to his 'second-in-command.' Dr. Rayleigh Blake had previously held down the position, but had returned to Earth since then. She just never thought she would actually have to make good on her official role.

"Right now?"

Weir nodded.

Parker blew out a sigh. "To be honest, I don't even know where to start. It's probably not a good idea for me to go back in to the infirmary for a few hours, to let the emergency team settle and continue to assess the situation. Then they can give an unbiased report, and we can move forward. Carson and the girls will be in good hands," she assured Weir.

"I need to know every detail about the two patients from Radan," Parker continued, "which means talking to the people you brought back with you, Colonel."

"We've had people in there since before the quarantine," Weir told her, passing her a thin file. "So far they haven't been able to dig up much information."

Absently, Parker opened and glanced through the file. "They're probably not asking the right questions," she replied, looking at Weir over the top of the file to gauge the reaction her words received. Weir's brows had tightened ever so slightly, and so Parker added, "Good questions, and obvious ones. But those aren't always the right questions."

"Alright, what do you suggest?" Sheppard asked, watching the doctor step up to the plate.

Parker shrugged. "Obviously they need to feel comfortable with the person asking them the questions, to begin with. The right questions need to be asked." She sighed, bringing her hands up to rub her eyes. "These people were just evacuated from their homes. They need to feel safe."

Glancing over at Weir, Sheppard asked, "Where's Teyla?"

"On the mainland," Weir informed him, "But I spoke to her shortly after the quarantine ended, and she's on her way back. She should be here soon."

"She should be present when we're talking to the villagers," Sheppard told her.

Weir nodded. "Agreed." Turning to Parker, she nodded, "Alright, Addison, what questions do you need answered?"

"With respect, Dr. Weir, I would like to be the person _asking_ the questions," the Australian doctor spoke up. Glancing in Sheppard's direction out of the corner of her eye, she added, "And I would appreciate Teyla's help, but I can provide basic questions that need answers right now, although their words may prompt further questions, and for that I need to be there."

Weir leaned forward in her seat. "What about Carson, and the others in the infirmary? They need you there as well."

Shaking her head, Parker let out a short, frustrated sigh. "Right now? I can't do anything for any of them. And by now they've got most of the medical team down there trying to figure out what's wrong physiologically. If I go back down there now, I'd just become another doctor in the mix, and right now I believe the most important thing I can do is find out as much information as I can to help resolve this problem as quickly as possible. I have complete faith in the capabilities of the people taking care of Carson and the girls. I wouldn't be sitting here right now if I didn't."

Her pace had progressively quickened and rose in volume as she spoke, and the way she held herself did not change. Across from her, Weir shifted slightly in her seat. There was no irreverence in Parker's voice, and she certainly bore no grudge against Weir, but she was increasingly becoming more and more frustrated. It had been building up from the first moment the infirmary doors had shut. She recognised the feeling – helplessness.

Suddenly, Weir stood, and nodded her head slightly to Parker. "Alright, Addison, I'll have someone take you down there," the leader of the Atlantis expedition told her. "When she arrives, I'll have Teyla join you."

"I'd like to make a quick stop to change my clothes," Parker told her, standing also, followed in suit by Sheppard. "Wearing someone else's clothes is never comfortable." She managed a weak smile. "I'll keep in touch with the infirmary and join the rest of the team there when I've finished."

Nodding, Weir replied, "Of course. Keep me posted." Turning her gaze to Sheppard, she added, "Maj. Lorne wants to meet with you about distribution of personnel. I know it is bad timing, but I told him I would let you know as soon as possible."

Sheppard replied with a curt nod. "Thanks."

The impromptu meeting formally concluded, Parker turned to leave, followed closely by Sheppard, only to stop when Weir spoke again. "Oh, and John? We tried to reach you over the communications radio, but we didn't get a response."

Sheppard raised an eyebrow, before his mouth formed the recognisable 'Oh, that's right,' expression he often sported. "It was in my jacket," he told Weir, as if it were the most obvious explanation in the world. Weir was clearly after more information.

Before Sheppard could reply, Parker spoke. "We had to cut the colonel's jacket off to clean his shoulder wound," she explained. That had been done by one of the attending medical personnel in the gateroom before Sheppard had set foot in the infirmary. "I am afraid I don't know what they did with the jacket after that," she admitted. She was still adjusting to the ways things were processed in the Pegasus galaxy, and small loopholes in her knowledge were increasingly frustrating to find.

With a sharp nod, Parker turned on her heel and left the office, making her way to her quarters.

  
Before long Parker found herself entering the room where the Radan survivors had been gathered. Inside were a number of Atlantis personnel, including Dr. Kate Heightmeyer the resident psychologist.

"Dr. Parker." Heightmeyer came over to greet her.

Parker shook her head slightly. "Addison, please," she told the psychologist with a small smile. Nodding her head in the direction of their guests, she asked, "How are they doing?"

"As well as can be expected," Heightmeyer told her, leading her in to the room. "Obviously some are quite stressed over being kept in here, but for the most part they understand the concern. They seem to be willing to answer any questions we have." She paused, looking back over the people, some of whom were watching the two of them converse. Returning her gaze to Parker, she asked, "We have not been told much, but I understand there are a few people injured?"

Parker nodded her head once. "Dr. Beckett, Cally Anderson and Rebecca Childes," she confirmed quietly. "They're stable, for the moment." Between Weir's office and this conference room, Dr. Abrams had brought Parker up to date on their condition, and on the (little) progress the team had been able to make. It had not been much, and had not helped Parker's mood. Motioning to the room, she asked, "Do you mind?"

Shaking her head, Heightmeyer told her, "Not at all," stepped back slightly to observe.

Clearing her throat quietly, Parker addressed the room. "I'm sorry to interrupt," she started, voice clear and loud enough to be heard by all those in the room. The little noise that had been present when she walked in ceased, as the Radan's focused their attention on the young doctor. "I met some of you earlier when you first arrived in Atlantis, so I recognise some of your faces, but to those of you whom I didn't have a chance to meet earlier, my name is Dr. Addison Parker. I have some questions that hopefully won't take up too much of your time, and will help us get to the bottom of everything as soon as possible."

"Is it true that Miguel and Roche are dead?"

Parker turned to try and find the person to match the voice that had spoken out. Someone towards the back, whom she could not readily identify. "I'm afraid so, yes. We did what we could, but this was something we haven't seen before. It's why I'm down here to speak to you," she replied, casting a glance behind her at Heightmeyer, who nodded her head once in encouragement. At least now, Parker had names to attach to the Radan victims, which was something.

Behind her, Parker heard the quiet hiss of the door opening, and footsteps of someone entering. It was Teyla. Parker had only briefly met her on previous occasions, the first after a mission. She found the presence of the Pegasus-galaxy native reassuring in the current company. Apparently so did many of the Radan in the room – Teyla had been among the team that had first met these people, and they were familiar with her.

Nodding her head in greeting, Parker turned back to the room, and resumed her quest for knowledge.

It took time. A lot longer than Parker had been expecting, but then, her only previous experience in gathering patient data was in a state-of-the-art medical facility where patient records were on hand at a moment's notice and it did not take much for those familiar with said patients to reveal anything that might be useful when faced with the knowledge that any information could save the life of a loved one.

Parker was spoiled, and she readily admitted that fact. And it lent validity to her rejection from the Atlantis expedition the first time around. That did not mean it did not grate at her nerves.

In teams, Atlantis personnel spoke to small groups of the Radan. Parker, Heightmeyer and Teyla headed up the personnel groups, Parker having prepared a series of basic questions to be asked, and trusted that the other women would be able to take the initiative to delve deeper in to responses; Heightmeyer because she was a psychologist, and Teyla because she was a leader among her people, used to gaining information that was required.

Time flew, and the sound of the door opening drew Parker back to the present, her eyes turning away from the young woman in front of her towards a figure entering. Weir.

"Would you excuse me for a moment," Parker excused herself from the informal interview, and making her way over to Weir.

Offering Parker a slight smile, Weir asked her, "How go the interviews?" She had her hands clasped loosely in front of her, eyes scanning the room. Many of the Radan were sitting watching the proceedings. While Parker had tried to organise to speak to everyone, she had emphasised that it was mostly voluntary, but that any information would help. The Radan willing to speak came and went, with varying degrees of information.

"Slowly," Parker replied, but despite her lack of experience in such an activity, she was not as frustrated as she had first expected herself to be. "They're all willing to help out, for the most part, and we've been able to gather more information on their village and how they live. It's all very interesting, although mostly useless in solving our problem." Closing her clipboard, she rolled her shoulders back to relieve some of the tension that had built up sitting down for so long. "Was there something I could help you with?"

Weir nodded her head once. "Actually there was. Carson has been asking for you," she spoke evenly. "You've been down here for a few hours, I thought you might be up for taking a break. He won't say what he wants to talk to you about, at least not to the doctors in the infirmary."

Hours? She really had lost track of time.

"Of course," she told Weir, suddenly feeling restless. "Let me finish up what I'm doing, and let Kate and Teyla know what's going on. They can finish up here." With the nod she received from Weir, Parker spoke quickly to Heightmeyer and Teyla, informing them of where she would be and to contact her if they uncovered any new information. Then, thanking the young woman she had been speaking to when Weir entered, she directed her to Heightmeyer.

The journey to the infirmary was short and uneventful, thanks to Ancient technology. The discovery of the transporters in the city had been a welcome discovery in the first days of the expedition, and their convenience had yet to wear off. Parker was particularly fond of them, when travelling between the infirmary and various medical laboratories discovered.

In her absence, the infirmary had been transformed; a handful of doctors were still wearing the thick red HAZMAT suits, while others had removed their suits now that their patients had been moved into a makeshift 'cleanroom' – plastic walls separating the patients from their carers. All three had been moved into the same room, beds lying in a row.

The entire scene made Parker feel sick to her stomach.

Entering, a handful of the medical team turned to glance in her direction, although most kept at their tasks. Richard Abrams, one of many pathologists on the expedition, handed her an up-to-date folder containing information on the condition of all three patients.

"They're still stable," he informed her, "still conscious, and still able to speak."

Parker shook her head. "That's so odd," she murmured. Abrams shrugged; he had things just as strange during his time in the Pegasus galaxy. Parker was correct though. It was very odd.

"We have not yet been able to identify the cause of the paralysis," Abrams continued. "There's no physical damage to the brain or the spinal cord, that we can ascertain."

Parker glanced up. "Periodic?" She sounded sceptical of her suggestion, but the sooner it was discarded, the better.

"All three of them?"

She shrugged. "Didn't think so."

"We're trying to find out if a poison of some description might have been involved."

Nodding, Parker snapped the folder shut. "That would explain the quarantine and the paralysis with one hit. Dr. Beckett and I weren't able to find any evidence of a poison or toxin, but we might have missed something."

"Most of the sample you managed to save has evaporated," he reported, and she let out a long sigh. That was simply something she could not explain and like other things she could not explain, it frustrated her to no end.

Closing her eyes she took a deep breath. "Keep looking," she told him, opening her eyes, and Abrams nodded. "And keep me informed."

"You got it, Addison." A brief flash of a smile, and Abrams returned to the group of gathered pathologists he had detached himself from earlier. A handful of years older than Parker, Abrams was dedicated to his work. The personnel on Atlantis were the best and brightest Earth had to offer, and even now personalities and egos clashed over diagnoses and anything one could think of. Abrams seemed to have left that mentality at the door when stepping through the Stargate, and as a result was usually left to keep the peace. He was one of the few people whom Parker worked closely with that did not make her feel inferior.

Another long sigh, before she approached the quarantine curtain. She was not wearing a HAZMAT suit, but by now they had established her natural resistance to the contagion. She knew for a fact that the rest of the team analysing their blood samples were still confused as to why Sheppard had not fallen ill. Pulling on a clean set of scrubs and gloves in the antechamber, she walked through, past Anderson and Childes, both of who appeared to be sleeping.

Beckett was awake; Parker could hear him muttering under his breath.

"Hello, Carson," she said, coming to stand over him, so that he could see her.

He still had some control over his facial muscles, and she smiled when he offered a hint of the same. "Addison." His voice was soft and strained.

Though he would not be able to feel it, she took one of his hands in her own. In fact, she was quite sure it was more for her own comfort than for his. This was her boss, and her friend, lying in front of her, and she did not know how to help him. "Dr. Weir said that you wanted to see me?"

He blinked his eyelids once, murmuring a quiet, "Yes." Then he did not say anything for a long time, as if trying to summon up the courage to say something he was not comfortable with. She did not try to rush him. Inside this constructed plastic 'room' it was difficult to hear the noise outside the walls; everything was muffled, lending the space an eerie quality, the semi-silence broken only by the beeping on the monitors.

Finally, he spoke, his eyes avoiding hers. "I've left some notes for a few projects that I had wanted to start—"

Realising exactly what he was going to say from the moment he opened his mouth, Parker shook her head and cut him off. "Carson, you can show them to me yourself," she told him earnestly.

"Addison—"

"No." Again, she shook her head. "You're going to beat this thing. For all we know, this might just be temporary," she pointed out. The fact was, they did not know anything about this illness, and it might eventually rescind, the body rejecting the unnatural occurrence. Or it could damage the body permanently, but that was something she was really trying not to think about at the moment.

"It might not be," he pointed out, gently. He looked her in the eyes.

Parker could feel the familiar sting building in her eyes, and she blinked away tears that had not even begun to fall yet. She was not going to cry. She was a doctor – a surgeon – with her patient, and damn it, she was going to help him. She could not do that if she broke in to a hysterical mess, which she knew was a very real possibility right now.

Forcing an optimistic smile, she shook her head. "You can't think like that, Carson," she reminded him. "How many of Earth's best doctors live here in Atlantis? They'll figure it out. And when this is all over, we're going to look back on this and add it to the 'weird things that happened to me on an alien planet' folder."

"You didn't count yourself," he pointed out.

Parker snorted indelicately. "I'm a surgeon, Carson. You know medical research has never been my strong point."

"You'll do what you need to," he told her, and she nodded.

"I'll keep them in line until you're back on your feet," she promised, although her words were mostly laced with humour. They certainly did not need someone looking over their shoulder when they all knew the stakes.

Carson blinked once. "I know you will, Addison," he told her quietly. The confidence she could hear in his voice – confidence in _her_ \- did nothing to abate her helplessness.

Parker laid her free hand on his shoulder, and tried again for a reassuring smile. "You'll be up on your feet before you know it," she told him. "And back to bossing us around. The way it should be."

That made him laugh.

Sighing softly to herself, Parker stole a glance at her watch. "I should get back to work," she told him reluctantly. "But I'll come in and see you in a few hours."

"Go," Beckett told her sympathetically.

"Try not to terrorise the good doctors and nurses _too_ much," she said, just before turning to leave. She added a wink.

Lying on the bed, helpless to move, Beckett rolled his eyes at her. "Don't be cheeky. Now go."


End file.
